


when all your heroes get tired (i'll be something better yet)

by amyscascadingtabs



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Babies, Episode: s07e13 Lights Out, Female Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, One Shot, Post-Episode: s07e13 Lights Out, Rosa Diaz & Amy Santiago Friendship, Season/Series 07, Sleuth Sisters (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyscascadingtabs/pseuds/amyscascadingtabs
Summary: She realizes Jake and Amy have never gotten to keep anything about their relationship secret; not their pining, not becoming a couple, not getting engaged, or even trying for a baby. She supposes they deserve to keep something to themselves for once, even if they’re worthless at it.Or, Rosa has always been strangely involved in Jake and Amy's relationship, and the two of them becoming parents doesn't appear to change this.
Relationships: Charles Boyle & Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), Rosa Diaz & Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz & Jake Peralta, Rosa Diaz & McClane "Mac" Peralta
Comments: 47
Kudos: 142





	when all your heroes get tired (i'll be something better yet)

**Author's Note:**

> so this has been in my head probably since a while after the finale aired, but I'm only just writing it down.  
> I wrote a fic on rosa meeting peraltiago baby back in 2018 (chapter 9 in the collection called everything changes) and I've been itching to write a canon version with all the lovely sleuth sisters content we were gifted with in season seven. I love them so much and I would die for supportive rosa, so this is pretty much just an ode to that.
> 
> thank you so much to niamh who encouraged me to write this and kept me motivated the whole way through!! you're awesome 💞🥺
> 
> (people with Taste™️ will also spot the reference in this to an excellent fic by johnny-and-dora, I HAD TO.)  
>    
> title from all my heroes by bleachers.

**...**

“You’re really not going to drink that?”

Amy gives the glass of Shaw’s finest - and only - _charbonnay_ a look like she's worried it will bite her. 

They’re having a celebration, Holt has announced, to one month without Madeline Wuntch. Then he’d seemed teary by those words, telling the squad it was also to honor her memory. No one’s certain what's going on, but no one minds the free alcohol either.

Except, it seems, Amy.

“I’m driving.”

“Don't you and Jake always take an Uber home?”

“We’re trying to save money.”

“For what?”

“Fertility treatments are expensive,” she says, too quickly and too comfortably. “I don't want to talk about it, Rosa.”

Rosa knows she’s being rude, but she can't help it. She had to be sure. She’s both a detective and a master of secret-keeping, skilled enough to sense from fifty feet away when someone else is guarding them, and she's had a feeling about thisparticular secret for weeks.

She’d give herself credit, but it’s not like it’s been difficult to figure out. Amy literally told Rosa the day after she and Jake decided to start trying, whispering the words to her with a giddy smile as soon as they were alone in the break room. It became public knowledge rather quickly, and it’s not like the couple was working hard on keeping it a secret when they got wasted during Hitchcock’s wedding, high-fived after Amy’s drunken toast, and proceeded to try and fuck in the guinea pig-closet. 

(Honestly? Rosa was impressed.)

They took a break from it shortly after that. Then, Amy started eating some kind of hormonal stimulation medication and morphed into one of the most emotional, irritable Amy-s Rosa had ever seen. Then she got _weird_. 

It started with her and Jake avoiding Shaw’s. Sometimes Jake would show up to have a drink or two with Charles, but he'd never stay longer than half an hour. Terry asked about it once, joking that he wondered whether Amy just didn't like the squad anymore, at which point Jake laughed nervously and changed the topic. 

Now, Rosa’s noticed that Amy’s coffee intake has gone down from three or four cups a day to one and a half at max. She makes a point of sitting as far away from Boyle and his lunches as possible. She’s begun to seem distant, always slightly distracted in conversation, and she gravitates towards Jake even more than usual. Several times now, Rosa’s found them in a corner of the corridor, whispering together and stopping the moment they notice her. 

So yeah, she’s figured their secret out alright, and no, she doesn’t believe they’re planning to adopt a monitor lizard and _that’s_ why Jake was searching baby names on his computer the other day. 

What Rosa doesn’t understand is why Amy doesn’t tell her. She can keep a secret. She was the one who bought every kind of pregnancy test she could find in the bodega when Amy was freaking out at the manhunt, and the one who listened when she finally admitted that trying to conceive was starting to stress her out. If Amy can share something so personal with her, venting her little heart out over a drink in a lone corner of Shaw’s late one evening, Rosa doesn't get why she can't share _this_.

“So you're doing the treatments, then?” 

“I just said I don't want to talk about it,” Amy snaps, then sighs and leans her head in one hand. “Sorry. Tired.”

“You’ve taken a bunch of days off recently, haven't you?”

“I had a family emergency,” she says, and Rosa knows she's lying through her teeth. No one ever uses that line when they're _really_ having a family emergency. “Hey, why are you interrogating me?”

“Just making conversation,” Rosa shrugs. If Amy can lie, so can she. “You want a soda or something instead?”

“I’m good. Thanks for the gesture, though.” She lifts the wine glass in her hand, still looking at it warily. “I’ll just... give this to Jake. Talk to you later?”

“Sure. Later.”

Amy gives her a careful smile, sliding off the barstool and heading towards the table where Jake has joined Terry, Sharon, and the Captain. Rosa watches as Jake makes space for her, his whole demeanor lighting up when he sees her. She places the glass next to his beer, whispering something underneath her breath, and Jake nods before taking it from her and swallowing half of it in quick sips. _It’s not even subtle_ , Rosa thinks. 

She's just about to wonder where Charles is and why he isn’t in that same booth asking overly invasive questions when he joins her on the same barstool Amy just left.

“Hey, Ro-ro.” He must’ve had a few drinks already, she deduces from the nickname.

“I’ve told you never to call me that unless you want your tires slashed.”

Charles ignores her. “You're noticing it too, right? With Amy?”

“You mean her acting even weirder than normal? Yep. Pretty sure everyone’s noticed.”

An elated grin appears on Charles’ face, so wide it shows his teeth. Rosa scrunches her nose. “I think I know why.”

“It’s really not hard to guess.”

“That's not why I know!” The shrill, drunken voice earns them a confused glance from Jake, and Rosa shoots Charles a warning glare to make him lower his volume. “Sorry,” he whispers. “It's just - I woke up one night, and I _knew_.”

“That you're unhealthily obsessed with your best friend's marriage and it's creepy?”

“ _Pfft_. No. I already knew that. I woke up, and I could feel it. Amy’s -”

“Pregnant, yeah. We all figured it out.”

“I can _sense_ it, Rosa.” He gives her a serious nod, the eye contact almost unnerving. “This is not about some groundless guess, some circumstantial evidence… this is real.”

“... yeah. So?”

“ _So?_ So! We have to tell them we know! I don't understand why they're keeping this to themselves!”

Rosa bites her lip. She knows where Charles is coming from. She was thinking it too, watching her best friend get nervous just from holding a glass of wine and scrambling to come up with a fake excuse to avoid it. She doesn't get why this has to be a secret. Everybody knows they've been trying, and it's so obvious something is up that even Hitchcock and Scully seem to be taking notice at this point. She could walk over to that table right now and tell Jake and Amy she knows, _everyone_ knows, and they don’t have to pretend or keep this a secret when everyone is happy for their sake. 

And yet Rosa stays where she is, because while she laughs at their futile attempts of keeping it on the down-low, she knows why.

_It feels like it’s never going to happen at this point_ , Amy had whispered to her just two months ago. _Like it’s not meant to be_. 

_That’s bullshit_ , Rosa replied, but Amy shook her head. 

She knows this has been a long journey for Jake and Amy. She also knows the fear that comes with gaining something you’ve spent a long time fighting for, then worrying that the universe is messing with you, and you’ll wake up tomorrow finding it was all a dream. There’s a reason Rosa’s kept nearly all her relationships secret until her partners have been begging to meet the squad, and it goes beyond her just being a private person. 

She realizes Jake and Amy have never gotten to keep anything about their relationship secret; not their pining, not becoming a couple, not getting engaged, or even trying for a baby. She supposes they deserve to keep _something_ to themselves for once, even if they’re worthless at it.

“We can’t tell them we know,” she decides. Charles opens his mouth to protest, but Rosa hushes him. 

“But -”

“Nope, Boyle. Look, I get that it's obvious, but it's their choice. Just because you told everyone the moment you decided to adopt doesn't mean Jake has to tell every perp he arrests that he's going to be a dad.”

Charles looks down at his shoes and swallows the last of his free wine. “I just want to celebrate with them. Seven years I’ve waited for this - ”

“You’ll get to celebrate with them. They can't keep it a secret forever. Maybe they're just waiting until the twelve-week mark or something.” Rosa takes a swig of her whiskey. “It can't be that much longer anyway. She's going to start showing at some point, right? Makes no sense to hide it from us after that. I mean, what’s she going to do? Wear a hazmat suit?”

Charles sighs. “Yeah, yeah. You're right.” 

He gives Jake and Amy a longing look. Jake has his arm around Amy now, and she’s resting her head on his shoulder, eyes closed like she’s moments from falling asleep. Jake whispers something to her, lips brushing against her forehead, and she blinks before mumbling something back. Small, tender gestures of affection, the kind that would drive Rosa crazy if it was anyone else, but ones she’s gotten used to with them. After the stress and lack of romance Amy described to her during the months they were trying, it even makes her happy to see.

It must be making Charles happy, too, because he’s tearing up.

“Anyway,” he says before Rosa can tell him to stop crying. “I’m going to go vent about this over the phone to Genevieve so I don’t go crazy. Good talk, Ro-ro.”

“Don’t”, she warns him, but he’s already halfway out the door. 

Jake and Amy stand up only a minute after, grabbing their jackets and saying their goodbyes. Amy meets eyes with Rosa for a second, mouthing a quick _bye_ , and Rosa nods in return. She watches them as they make their way out of the bar, arms still around each other, and hides a smile when she sees Jake’s hand rest softly against Amy’s stomach through her sweater. It's only a second before Amy moves it away, looking around in fear that someone will have noticed, but it’s enough for Rosa to know.

She might be a good detective, but Jake and Amy also happen to be the world’s _worst_ secret-keepers.

**...**

There was more than one reason as to why Rosa Diaz dropped out of medical school, but right now, as she’s flipping through the pages of the very detailed and very graphic book she found on Jake’s desk, she can only remember the one.

It was the second day on her final rotation in third year - obstetrics and gynecology - and for some reason, her supervisor thought it’d be a useful and educational experience for her to be part of a birth. She wouldn't have to do anything, just observe and learn. Not one to complain, Rosa had accepted, put on her gloves, and entered the delivery room with a forced upbeat smile on her face.

At the end of the day, that smile had since long been wiped off, as had what felt like a bucket of blood, goo, and other equally gross, slimy stuff. Also, Rosa had dropped out of medical school. 

She’d observed during surgeries, been puked on by sick and screaming children, and once met a patient with a broken arm where the bone was sticking out, but childbirth had been the final straw. Three years of medical school and thousands of dollars in student debt went down the drain. She applied to business school in hopes of making up the money and told herself she hadn’t been that crazy about med school in the end. Having to put on a smile and be polite to needy patients wasn’t her thing anyway, and at least in business school, people were upfront about being jerks. 

Sixteen years had passed since the day Rosa almost threw up from watching the so-called miracle of life. Tonight, it seemed she was about to unwillingly witness it again.

A drawn-out, pained moan brings Rosa back to reality, where Amy has since long given up all attempts of hiding her contractions. She glances at her watch, grimacing as she realizes it's the third contraction in five minutes coming to an end. Amy's started leaning with her elbows on the pool table for the duration of them, muttering a creative string of curses in mixed English and Spanish, and it might have looked funny if it wasn't seeming like this baby was about to be born in the break room. 

“Fuck this shit,” Amy mumbles, and Rosa can only agree. “Fuck everything about this. This wasn't how it was supposed to - _fuck_.” She goes down on her elbows again, swaying from side to side. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

“Well worded.”

“Shut _up_.”

“They're getting worse?”

“ _Mm-hmm_.” 

All traces of the confident sergeant that insisted she didn’t need to go to the hospital, who’s spent the blackout answering every offer to help with a razor-sharp remark about how they could _help her best by following her orders_ , seem to have disappeared. When Amy exhales, Rosa can see tears in her eyes, a reserved expression of panic amid the frustration. 

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to be,” she repeats as she sits down on the well-stained couch. “Look. I wasn’t even that picky, okay? I didn’t need a super wholesome and peaceful dream experience or anything. As long as everything went well, the baby was okay and I was okay. But I wanted a hospital,” she sniffles. “And I wanted Jake there. I didn’t think that was too much to a- _aa_ …”

She leans against the side of the couch this time, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth through another contraction. Rosa feels helpless. It’s not a feeling she has often, and it’s not one she's a fan of. She reaches out to gently pat Amy’s back, but it feels awkward, so she stops. 

“It wasn’t too much to ask,” she says. “But you’re not going to make it to the hospital. So we're going to need another plan.” 

“The firefighters.” Amy blushes. “I know we hate them, but…”

“They’re basically a bunch of glorified EMTs who sleep in bunk beds. Meaning, they can deliver a baby in an emergency.”

Amy nods, drawing a shaky breath and rubbing her hand against the top of her stomach. “I don’t want to do this to him, Rosa.”

“What do you mean?”

“What if this doesn’t go well? What if he won’t be okay? What if something happens and it’s my fault because I couldn’t go to the hospital? What if this makes me a terrible mom?”

Amy’s eyes are wide and she’s chewing on her lip, and Rosa thinks she would start braiding her hair if it wasn't already in a messy ponytail. Most of her worries sound like straight-up insanity to Rosa’s ears, but she supposes that wouldn’t be the right thing to tell Amy at this moment. 

“You think you’re the first woman ever to give birth outside of a hospital?” She asks instead. “Because you’re not. That baby’s going to be fine. He’ll probably plop right out onto the floor -”

“Oh my god, don't let him touch the floor!”

“Fine. No floor. Whatever. But you can do this.” She stares right back at Amy and channels all the persuasion she has inside of her. “Okay?”

Amy hiccups. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well, neither do I.”

Amy groans and stands up to lean against the pool table again, doing the same rhythmic swaying with her hips. A uniformed officer gives her a curious look as he walks past. 

“It’s what we’re doing, though. So get it together.” Rosa regrets it the moment she says it and Amy freezes. For a split second, Rosa wonders if she’s going to punch her, or at the very least yell something, but Amy just looks surprised before letting out a noise sounding vaguely like a cackle.

“Did you just tell me to get it together?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” Rosa shakes her head. “Just - stay here while I go get a firefighter. Try not to give birth while I’m gone.”

Three firefighters are still hanging around the bullpen, drinking coffee from paper cups and laughing at some anecdote. Rosa scrunches her nose at them from a distance. She wonders why she didn't force Amy into a car to the hospital hours ago, but it's too late now. No matter how much she hates the fire department and how humiliating she finds it to have to ask for their help _twice_ in one day, she loves her friend just that little bit more. Marginally, but still more.

In an ideal world, Rosa would have wished a luxurious birthing suite with a wide range of pain relief, some nerdy relaxing music like the Harry Potter soundtrack, skillful doctors, and Jake there for her best friend to go through something as terrible as labor with - but since none of that seems to be in the realm of possibility anymore, the least she can do is make sure there’s _some_ kind of a medical professional there. She owes Amy that much.

Rosa grabs the arm of the firefighter standing closest to her. He’s short but muscular with a beard that reminds her of a childhood best friend’s stay-at-home dad, giving out a caring and reliable energy in the midst of the precinct’s inferno. He feels safe, and although Rosa’s never given birth herself, she imagines that’s a valuable trait for the situation. 

“Need any help?” Even his smile is like taken out of a pamphlet for parent cooperatives and terrace-houses with collective barbeques. 

“I do. Have you ever delivered a baby before?”

“Oh, that's a funny story!” He chuckles. “I’ve actually delivered three. They're great stories, you should hear -”

“Cool, cool, cool, don't have time, don't care. Wanna deliver a fourth? Like, tonight? Right now?”

Without waiting for a reply, she drags him to the break room.

Judging from the strained expression and eyes clenched shut, Amy’s in the middle of a contraction when they return. 

“I found a firefighter.” Rosa points to their new companion. “This is, uhm -”

“Curt.”

“Huh. Anyway, he's delivered three babies before, and they're all fine. Well, I think. He can help. Right?”

“Absolutely!” Curt nods. “You’re Amy, right? Tell me where we're at.”

“Contractions at one to one and a half minute apart, lasting about thirty to forty seconds,” Rosa fills in for her friend, pointing to her watch. 

“Can you talk through them?” Curt looks to Amy, who shakes her head with her lips pressed together before exhaling.

“Not anymore. There's -” She screws up her face. “ _Ouf._ Pressure.”

“Pressure like you need to push?” Curt’s voice is calm, even though Rosa can't for the life of her understand how. Amy nods shortly.

Rosa stares at her. “Are you _sure_?”

Amy stares back with a death glare, and Rosa holds up her hands in retreat. 

“Okay, not going to question you on that. Cool.”

“Well, that answers my question,” says Curt, the most cheerful one in the room by far. “I’ll get my emergency kit and we'll make some space on the couch. Let's do this!”

“I'm scared,” Amy whispers once they're alone again. Her timid voice is a sharp contrast to her earlier groans and screams. Rosa looks at her and sees the same Amy she comforted during long nights when Jake was in Florida, the Amy that shines through every time her husband's in danger again, no matter how hard she tries to suppress it. Rosa's never been great at comforting, but she could never leave her best friend like this. That instinct is just enough to overpower some of her hate for the situation. 

“I know,” she says, stroking away a few pearls of sweat from Amy’s forehead. “But you’re going to be okay.”

“You really think so?” 

She nods, and it seems to be a relief to Amy, who manages a tentative smile in return. “Okay. Let’s do this.” 

In the end, it’s probably Hitchcock and Scully - and maybe Lieutenant Peanut Butter - who end up being the most unlikely heroes of the day, but when the ambulance finally arrives to relieve her of her duties, Rosa’s still pretty damn proud of herself. 

_If only Dr. Mervin could have seen me now_ , she thinks as she burns the afterbirth-covered outfit, remembering the snarky supervisor who had simply nodded and shut the office door in her face when Rosa told her she would be dropping out. 

She’s never, _ever_ , delivering a baby again, though. 

**...**

Rosa’s not crazy, so she waits a few days after Jake and Amy come home from the hospital before she asks to visit. 

Even then, she’s careful. She remembers how militant Gina was with her minimal-visitors policy after Iggy was born, how she demanded everyone who came brought food and offered to clean up because she ‘sure as hell wasn’t doing any of that crap five days after pushing a living human out of her vagina’, and the last thing she wants is to be a nuisance to two new parents who are probably exhausted as is. 

Mac is a week old the day Rosa texts Jake and Amy to ask if she can come over. She assures them that it's okay if they're too tired, that she can bring food if they want, but it's only ten minutes before Amy's replied _Not necessary, you're always welcome_ and Jake's added _Mac misses his auntie Ro-Ro._ The nickname makes her touched, and she wonders briefly who she's become.

She brings food anyway, a hearty chicken stew made from a family recipe, plus a batch of oatmeal cookies; she’s got manners, and, well, she's not an animal. 

It's Jake who opens. He looks surprised to see her, even though they were just texting hours ago.

“Hey, Diaz.” He can't have washed his hair in a while. It looks crazy, curls and tufts sticking up in random patterns, it doesn't look like he's shaved and his outfit seems taken from the days when they worked that apartment murder that drove them both insane. At least he’s wearing pants this time. Sweatpants, but Rosa supposes he's got an excuse.

“Amy's in the bedroom with Mac,” he explains before she can ask. “They were napping, but I just heard him start crying and instantly go quiet again, so now I’m guessing they’re nursing. They’ll be out soon.”

“It’s fine,” she assures him. “I came to see you, too.”

She’d expected their apartment to be way messier, but it looks surprisingly neat. The dining table has been taken over by flowers and greeting cards, there are bottles drying next to the sink and a baby swing next to the armchair, but the space is still tidy. Rosa’s impressed, and a little worried about Amy. 

“I brought food,” she says, putting the first container on the kitchen counter.

“Oh my god, you did? I’m sure it's even edible!” Jake lights up. “Charles has given us loads too, but, y’know. I love him, but he's Charles, and anything he cooks is also… _Charles_.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Yeah.” He gives the chicken stew a closer look, poking at the plastic lid. “This looks great. Thanks, Rosa.”

“You're welcome.” 

He smiles, a yawn following suit that he makes no effort to hide. Rosa feels bad for him, but it looks pretty funny, like his mouth is about to stretch into an abyss before he's done.

“Tired?”

“I’ll be real with you, I have not slept in a while. You want coffee?”

“Dude, it's 8 p.m.”

“Excellent observation, Diaz. Would you mind explaining that to my son?” Something in his expression changes when he says the word _son_. There’s a pride in his voice as he pronounces it, weighing the syllable like he can’t get enough. “I love him more than anything, but wow, he’s a _shit_ sleeper. You want tea instead?” Jake's already digging in a cabinet. “We have, uhm… Earl Grey, lemon, and something called lactation tea. Maybe you don’t want that.” He sniffs the jar. “Smells pretty good, though. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it?”

“Lemon’s fine. Oh, and I’ve got cookies, too.”

“Who _are_ you?” 

“I gotta say, I thought your place would be chaos.” They’ve brought their cups to the couch, where Jake is already on his third cookie and getting crumbs all over the blue flannel. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, my wife is a superhero.” Rosa raises a brow, and he quickly adds, “fine, I’ve done most of this, just so she doesn’t have to stress over it. And my mom was here yesterday. The first thing still stands, though.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being there with her,” he says, and the gravity in his tone takes her by surprise.

“I did nothing,” she mumbles. “You would have done a much better job. Maybe she would have even _listened_ to you if you’d told her to go to the hospital.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain about that. She can be pretty…”

“Obstinate?”

“I was going to say determined, but sure. Sometimes.” Jake shakes his head. “I say that with love. Anyway, I’m glad it was you. Can you imagine if it had been Charles? She might have killed the man, which would have put such a damper on the whole night, don’t you think? Nah. You were great.”

He meets her eyes again as he says it, and Rosa looks away. She’s rarely one to appreciate flattery, but after the intensity of the situation and the slight guilt she felt afterward over not being the source of calm medical school taught her she should be - some of it’s welcomed.

“Sorry your son had to be delivered by a firefighter.”

“Yeah, that’s tragic, isn’t it?” Jake laughs. “But you helped, too. That’s a pretty cool story to tell Mac about his aunt Rosa one day. I know you hated it, but thank you for staying with her.”

“I wouldn’t have left her.”

“I know.”

Neither of them says anything else in response. She can tell what he means anyway, and knows he can do the same with her. She forgets, sometimes, how long she’s known him; longer than she’s known anyone else at the precinct. She still remembers the goofy student who was restless in a classroom but always sharp as a knife during practical training, the guy she met her first day at the Academy and immediately took a liking to; not just because he seemed like the type who didn’t care about her past or personal life, but also because he was _passionate_. About Die Hard, taking down bad guys, and about making the people around him feel better, not that he would have confessed the last part.

She still remembers one morning during their second month of the Academy, when she’d arrived at training red-eyed after a bad fight with her boyfriend at the time. Without asking what had happened, Jake spent the entire day pointing out every detail he thought had a chance of making her snicker, and by the end of the day, she’d forgotten about the fight. He’s still the same, she thinks. A few years older, more emotionally mature, and less insistent on dying a heroic death while saving the city from a terrorist attack - but the thoughtfulness and the need to make sure the people he loves are safe and taken care of remains the same.

Rosa hears steps in the hallway, accompanied by what sounds like the shy whining Arlo does when he’s hiding after doing something naughty, and looks up to see Amy. She’s holding Mac against her chest and stroking his back through the baby pink blanket, but he’s still fussing a little. Jake jumps up faster than Rosa knew the man could move, and she watches as the couple exchanges the infant between their arms with so much carefulness. They look practiced, but in a way where they don’t trust it about themselves, where the confidence doesn’t yet match the skill. 

“Diaper change?” Jake asks, and Amy nods. “Amazing. Dad duty calls,” he grins, disappearing with Mac to the nursery. 

“You make him do all the diaper changes?” Rosa asks as Amy joins her on the couch. 

“Almost. I did the hard work, he’s gotta catch up.” She reaches for Jake’s cup, swallowing the last of the lukewarm coffee. “And he offers.”

Amy looks far more exhausted now than when Rosa last saw her in the hospital, the bags under her eyes not even hidden by makeup and her ponytail frizzy. She's wearing sweatpants again and the same flannel and shirt-combo as Jake, only hers is pink and not blue. Rosa wonders if their coordination is intentional or simple habit.

“So… how are you doing?”

It's not a question she asks often, but this time, she cares about the answer. 

“I’m so tired,” Amy fires back the second Rosa finishes her sentence, like she's been bursting to complain over it. “Sore. Crying at _everything._ We’re just trying to figure it out.” She sighs, and then she gets a smile on her lips. “But it’s good. He's objectively the best, most wonderful baby ever.”

“Worth it?”

“Yeah, but that was never a question.”

Jake returns from the diaper change with Mac, who still doesn't quite seem content where he squirms in his father's arms, instantly gaining Amy's attention.

“Clean baby, still not happy,” Jake reports. “Maybe he didn't finish eating?”

“Could be,” Amy says, stretching out her arms to take him. “I’ll see if he's still hungry. You can go take a shower if you want. I’ve got Rosa.”

“Do I _need_ to shower?”

“Yes, babe, you do.”

Jake grimaces, but he's off to the bathroom as soon as Amy returns her focus to the baby in her arms. Mac’s turning his whole body against her chest like it couldn't be clearer what he's after, and Amy sighs as she starts unbuttoning the flannel. 

“You don't mind, right?” 

“Why would I mind? You're feeding your baby,” Rosa shrugs. “I’ve seen a lot worse, if you remember. I think I can handle accidentally catching a glimpse of your boob.”

Amy blushes. “Guess you’ve got a point.”

It takes them a minute, Amy talking to her son in a low, soothing voice as he keeps tensing and fussing before he catches on. Rosa looks away, wanting to give them some privacy, but she can hear the moment Mac starts suckling and the sigh of relief that follows from Amy. 

“There you go,” she says. “We just need to relax, and we’re good.”

There’s a tenderness even to the way she speaks to him, like love is packed into each word. Rosa thinks of the way Amy hid her pregnancy for months in fear that something would go wrong, and how scared she was that giving birth under less than ideal circumstances would somehow make her a bad mom. She doesn’t seem as scared anymore. Rather, there’s an air of quiet confidence over her when she’s holding him, and it’s moving to see. 

“Slow down, McClane,” she whispers, thumb stroking over his cheek. “I know you’re hungry, but if you keep going like that, you’re going to puke, okay? We’ve been through this.”

“I’m proud of you,” the words spill out of Rosa, and Amy blinks. 

“You’re proud of me?”

“Yeah, I’m proud of you.” A shy smile flutters across Amy’s lips. “But if you ever have another kid, I’m not going near you a _month_ before you’re due, okay? I’ll transfer precincts or something. Never again.”

Amy laughs, but Rosa just stares at her, and she goes silent. “Got it. Cool. That’s fair.”

“Do you want to hold him?” The question takes Rosa by surprise. Mac has finished eating and burped Amy in the face - babies are charming - and seems content again with his head on Amy’s shoulder. “He’s clean and wearing clothes.”

“Uhm, yeah.” Rosa tries to remember when she last held a baby. It was probably Iggy, but Gina’s daughter is three years old now, and she hasn’t wanted to cuddle with Rosa for at least two. “Okay.”

Her heart is beating fast as she holds out her arms and Amy gently transfers him to them, but then he’s there, and it’s not as scary. Mac looks up at her with his big, brown eyes, like he's trying to figure out who this new person is that's holding him, but he doesn't seem too bothered by the change. 

“Hi,” says Rosa, tracing one of the rainbows on his onesie. “We’ve met before.”

The fact that she saw this baby be bornis something she most of all wants to forget. She won't for a second pretend he looked cute then, all purple and slimy and half-Cuban Jimmy Neutron-like, but now she can actually distinguish some of his features. Dark hair that won’t quite lie flat, a pointy little nose, the sweetest round cheeks, and a curious expression when she meets his eyes with equal focus. There’s some resemblance to both of his parents, something she imagines Charles has probably talked their ears off about already, but he looks like himself, too. 

Mac opens his mouth like he’s trying to communicate, and Rosa makes the same face back at him. He closes it, pursing his lips, and she mimics him again. He’s pretty cool, she decides, as long as she doesn’t think about how fragile he is or how soft his head is. He’s this unscarred and innocent, brand new little person with his whole life ahead of him to be filled with successes and mistakes, heartbreaks and dreams, and now that he’s not seconds-out of a womb anymore, Rosa can’t deny that he’s adorable.

“He’s perfect, right?” Amy’s voice is just above a whisper. 

“He’s so cute, it’s fucked up.”

Amy laughs. “It is fucked up,” she nods, and then she gets a far more serious look in her eyes. “Thanks again for being there. I know you hated it, but... I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Rosa finds herself lying, but Amy shakes her head.

“No, it was. I’m happy it was you.”

She thinks of Jake’s comment earlier, that Amy might have killed Charles if he’d been the one to try and coach her through contractions, and smirks. “It was worth it.”

Amy smiles. “Auntie Ro-Ro.”

“I get to say that. You don’t get to say that. It’s different.”

“Fine. Can I take a picture of you two? Just to have for him? I won’t ever show it to anyone else, I promise.”

“Sure.” Mac’s started moving a little in her arms again, scrunching his face and looking worried, but he’s not crying, so Rosa raises him slightly anyway and angles him so Amy can get a better picture.

“Adorable,” she says, about to snap the first shot, and right then Mac squirms and spits up. Right over Rosa’s leather jacket. Then he smiles, like everything just became so much better.

“Oh no!” Amy peeps, reaching for a washcloth. “Oh my god, I’m _so_ sorry, I’ll take him off your hands if you want -”

“It’s fine,” she hurries to say. “It wipes off.”

“Are you -”

“I said it’s fine.” Rosa gives her a look, as if to say _don’t you dare take this baby from me_. 

Amy looks nervous, but she takes a couple of pictures anyway. Rosa thinks that they’re probably from her bad side, but she doesn’t care to protest. It’s for Mac, anyway, and maybe a little bit for Amy and Jake. She can look ugly in a couple of iPhone pictures if it means she gets to hold this perfect baby for a few minutes more.

“So cute.” Amy sounds teary as she looks at the pictures before putting her phone away, and then it's as if she's been reading Rosa’s mind, because she asks,

“Are you okay to hold him for five minutes? Just while I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this.” 

Rosa has got this, at first. Mac has gripped her index finger and is holding on tight to it while she tickles his chin, boops his nose, and even sticks out her tongue to entertain him. He seems happy, watching her with the same wide eyes and intense eye contact, but then, something suddenly comes over him. He scrunches his forehead, making a face like a sad kitten, and the next second he’s crying. 

It takes Rosa by surprise. She's got no idea what to do with a crying baby - she's always just given them back to the parents - but Jake’s nowhere to be seen and breaking into the bathroom to place a screaming baby in Amy’s arms seems rude, although she definitely considers it. Rosa stands up instead, swaying from side to side while bouncing on the heels of her feet.

“Shh, shh,” she tries, to no effect. “It's okay.”

Mac lets out another wail like something is making him well and truly heartbroken, and the sound tugs at her heartstrings. 

“ _Where_ are your parents?” She asks him then, like he's not wondering the same thing. “I’m sorry, Mac, I don’t know what to do -”

An idea hits her. Babies like music, right? She could sing to him. Babies probably don’t like aggressive German rap, but that’s fine, Rosa knows other songs, _somewhere_ down deep - 

“The itsy bitsy spider, went up the water spout,” she sings the first song that pops into her head. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out…”

She's not prepared for it to work, but then, as suddenly as the screaming started, Mac calms down again. He lets out the sweetest snuffling noise, and then he goes quiet. 

“Out came the sun, and washed up all the rain, and the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again…”

Rosa doesn't dare stop. She keeps rocking and singing, rocking and singing, all the while staring at this baby who has such a grip on her somehow. When did a baby last make her _sing_? He's still staring at her with wide eyes, and she doesn’t want him to start crying again, so she sings the song from the top.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..”

When she finishes the song for the second time, Mac’s closed his eyes and is slowly waving a tiny fist, so she holds it in her hand and lets his grip close around her thumb. 

“If you ever get an enemy in the future,” she whispers, “you text me, okay? I’ll beat them up for you.”

“Aww.” Rosa flinches, noticing Jake a few feet away. “You guys are adorable. How are things going?”

“He started crying, so I, uh, sang to him? He's fine now. I think.”

“Yeah, I heard the singing.” Jake steps closer to her so she can slide Mac over to his arms. “Truly beautiful.” 

“ _Never_ tell anyone about this.”

He winks. “Our secret.”

Mac lets out another whimper, and Rosa tenses, but Jake just lifts him so he's resting against his chest, like a little frog with his head resting on Jake’s shoulder. Then he pops the pacifier he was holding into Mac’s mouth, and as if through a stroke of magic, the baby relaxes. Jake buries his nose in Mac’s hair and kisses the top of his head, and Rosa can't hide a smile. 

He looks so grown up like this, so in love as he holds his son. She’s proud of him. 

Amy returns from the bathroom with a stressed-out look in her eyes, but once she sees Mac with Jake, it melts right off her. She stands on the tip of her toes, kissing Mac’s cheeks first and then Jake’s.

Rosa feels like she’s lurking, spying on this intimate family moment, but then she remembers she literally saw this kid be born. This family has nestled its way into her life from the very beginning. She’s earned the right to be here.

She still excuses herself after a moment, but she doesn’t leave before she’s stolen a final dose of baby snuggles. How this baby has got her so wrapped around his tiny little finger already is a mystery, but at the same time, it makes all the sense in the world.

“Be nice to your parents,” she whispers to Mac as he gets a final turn in her arms. “They’re a little crazy, I know, but they really love you a lot. So do I,” she adds, under her breath, “but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Mac blinks, like he understands.

~

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! if you liked it, feel free to give it a kudo (??) or a comment and tell me your feelings about the sleuth sisters or let me know which moments or quotes you loved most. I honestly can't even choose, but thinking of rosa holding mac makes my heart go !!!!!! so probably that one.
> 
> also, a final shoutout to niamh for the itsy bitsy spider idea, because amy and rosa having the same panic song is absolutely hilarious and mac would totally love it. amy probably sang it to him while she was still pregnant. I'm calling it.


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